


Gathering Storm

by veritasrose



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, Gen, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 17:49:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5014192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veritasrose/pseuds/veritasrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feeling out of place and unwanted, Dorian decides to track down the only person who has made him fell welcome in the South. Now if only he could find him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gathering Storm

**Author's Note:**

> A little somewhat first-date between Dorian and my Inquisitor, Lorcan Lavellan.

     The tavern fell silent as Dorian entered. Every eye turned to stare at the Tevinter mage, so out of place with his silk robes and finely groomed visage. Disgust was written on more than one face.   He cleared his throat and lifted his chin. He wouldn’t be intimidated by a room full of unwashed Southerners. _They’re just ignorant,_ he reminded himself. _You are here to change that._ He walked up to the bar. “A hot tea please,” he flashed the bartender his most charming smile. He didn’t even bother asking what kinds they had. He counted himself fortunate there was any at all.  

     “Tea?” she looked at him like he had sprouted a second head.   

     He chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m afraid I’m still not used to the Southern cold.”   

     She shook her head and walked back to the stove in the corner where a pot of hot water was steaming.  

     Dorian took the chance to look around. Everyone was still staring. He rolled his shoulders, trying to shake the discomfort. Perhaps Inquisitor Lavellan was nearby. At least the elf didn’t look at him like he was an abomination. “Make that two teas, please! With plenty of milk and honey!” he called to the girl. He didn’t press his luck by inquiring after cinnamon sticks.  

     The bartender grabbed another mug and plopped it down, clearly unhappy about the development. She prepared the beverages with minimal effort, pulling the the leaves out before they’d properly finished steeping, and slopping the liquid over the side as she stirred in the honey and cream.

     Dorian struggled to keep the smile on his face. “Thank you,” he said, as she practically shoved the steaming drinks at him.  

     She turned and began polishing tankards with a threadbare rag.   

     “Right,” he sighed and turned away. He shouldered out of the warm building and into the cold night. For once, getting out into the snow was a relief. Now to find the Inquisitor. He looked around the camp, realizing he had no idea where the elf spent his free time. He huffed and began to trudge around the village. Surely Lorcan’s effervescent personality would have him surrounded by his adoring fans. _Should be easy enough to spot._

     A full circuit of the area left Dorian shivering and alone. He persisted, pushing past the large wooden gates towards the lake. Perhaps the Inquisitor was meeting with his commander, or that strapping Qunari. He frowned.   

     A flash caught the corner of his eye and he turned. Under a tree up the hill, there was another round of sparks. Lightning. He smiled and climbed up the snowy slope.   

     “Ah Dorian! You’ve hunted me down!” The elf smiled up at him as he approached. He sat overlooking the frozen lake, one outstretched arm resting on his pulled up knee. Sparks of electricity danced between his fingers.   

     Dorian felt his own grin broadening. “Yes well, someone had to make sure you hadn’t frozen to death. Generous soul that I am, I volunteered.”   

     “How very kind of you,” Lorcan smirked. “Slogging through the icy wasteland to bring me…?”   

     “Hot tea,” Dorian answered, passing the second mug down.   

     “Well it’s tea, at any rate,” Lorcan sipped the tepid liquid while Dorian sat down next to him.   

     The pyromancer rolled his eyes. He reached out and let his magic flow from his fingertips, reheating the cup and drink inside.   

     “Hmm, thank you,” the elf hummed happily. He wrapped his long, slender fingers around the pottery and closed his eyes. “So what really brought you out tonight?”  

     Dorian scoffed. “Well, it certainly wasn’t your charming personality!”   

     “Of course not! Clearly, you despise me,” Lorcan nudged his bony shoulder into Dorian’s.   

     “The absolute worst,” Dorian grinned. “I don’t know why I even bother!”   

     The elf leaned against him, and took a sip of his tea. “Yes well, I’m rather glad you did.”   

     Dorian’s heart stuttered. “You… you are?” Surely he didn’t mean it that way. Dorian swallowed, reminding himself that the man was friendly to everyone.   

     Lorcan nodded. “Yes, Dorian. I am.”   

     Dorian felt that stubborn spark of hope flare up again. “Good. That’s… I am happy to oblige.” He cleared his throat. “Even if you insist on lingering in this dismal and frigid wilderness instead of a warm cabin like any reasonable person.”   

     Lorcan sat up, leaving Dorian’s arm feeling cold and empty. “I like the quiet,” he admitted.   

     Dorian’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He wouldn’t have pegged the Inquisitor as anti-social.   

     Lorcan, leaned forward, looking out over the lake. The Breach reflected off his face in a sickly green glow, casting his scars into deep shadow. “I’ve never lived around humans before. They’re… loud. Much louder than the forests I grew up in.” He looked up at the rift in the sky and his face grew uncharacteristically grim. “Sometimes it’s hard to gather my thoughts after all that’s happened.”   

     Dorian felt a pang of sympathy. “I should leave you be. You sound like you need a moment’s peace.” He stood.   

     “You don’t have to go!” Lorcan turned, looking apologetic. He smiled, and this one was sweeter than his usual smirk. “I don’t mind, really. I actually find your presence rather peaceful.”   

     Dorian snorted and plopped back down. “I’m fairly certain no one has ever said that to me before!”   

     Lorcan huffed and turned back to look back over the silvery landscape. “Some people don’t know how to appreciate a good thing.”  

     Dorian felt his face heat up. “Are you so sure I’m a good thing?” He arched his brow, fully expecting to play the usual forbidden game.   

     “Yes.” Lorcan stated with full confidence. His face was so sincere as he looked at the other man.  No game here.  

     Dorian took a sip of his tea to hide his smile. His hand twitched towards the elf, but he caught himself in time. For now, he was content to just sit and watch the moon sink towards the horizon together.      


End file.
